


Wildflower About You

by jennandblitz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Awful Puns, F/F, Flirting, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, puns, so many puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24353830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandblitz/pseuds/jennandblitz
Summary: Marlene McKinnon has a desperate crush on her flower supplier. Luckily, her business partner has a wealth of floral puns to help her out.
Relationships: Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	Wildflower About You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Littlebitellie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebitellie/gifts).



> For my dear friend Grace. Enjoy, babe 🖤 Thank you to my twin FivePips for the speedy and hilarious beta.

“Oi! Sirius, you git!”

Marlene watches with a fond smile, chin set on her palm, at the antics unfolding in front of her. Sirius has left a handprint—dark in the absence of flour—on Remus’ arse. He’s grinning to himself, lurid and sharp, as he turns back to his coffee.

“You love it, I know you do,” Sirius says drily, uncapping his chalk marker.

Remus rolls his eyes in Marlene’s direction, taking his empty tray back into the kitchen. It’s a look she knows well though, half-exasperated and all-adoring, and she smiles back at him. “He’s right, Remus,” she says, curling ribbon against the blade of her scissors with practised ease as a sly smile curls her lips.

Remus just flips her off through the tiny window of the kitchen, going back to his baking. Marlene snickers, then goes back to her preparation. In the cafe area, Sirius sits with a coffee in one hand, writing menus with the other, looking dreadfully focused.

For all their banter, the three of them work together exceptionally well. The cafe had been their brain child; Sirius had used the nine months of business classes he actually attended before dropping out of University to write up a plan for them; Remus had rolled his sleeves up to bake an endless amount of bread or confectionery. Marlene had finally followed her dream of being a florist. Maybe it was sort of a small dream, but Marlene remembers arranging flowers with her grandmother, on the porch of the small cottage in the middle of nowhere. It had been beyond peaceful, and unearthed the buds of satisfaction in her heart. So now, here they were, at _Daisy & Rye_.

Sirius mans the coffee, is the manager in many ways, can talk the talk, walk the walk, charm the pants off anything, makes a damn good carnation chicken sandwich, a talent for ploughman’s. Remus bakes; bread, cakes, rolls, pastries, grinning ear to ear, deep in his happy place. Some Sirius makes into sandwiches, rolls, panini, others sold wrapped in brown paper to be enjoyed at home. Marlene has the shop, the small till to the side, walls and shelves full to the brim with bouquets. It’s a niche, for sure, but they have hit the jackpot. At the till they sell handmade postcards, drawings by Marlene, lettering by Sirius, encouragement and tea by Remus. They keep telling him to sell portions of his sourdough starter to hipsters for an utter killing, but _Sadie the Sourdough_ is like a damn child to him, and he refuses to part with it.

“It’s Thursday,” Sirius says, as if it means something other than a banal observation of the current time period. When Marlene glances up from setting a spray of lilies and gypsophila on the shelf, Sirius is smirking at her, menu board propped up against the table leg to dry before they open.

She knows _just_ what Thursday means. But that doesn’t mean she’ll give into Sirius’ smiles, so she takes her time adjusting the lilac ribbon holding the bouquet, before she turns to him. “It is. Well done, have you finally taken notice of the calendar?”

Sirius snorts a laugh as he stands up, chair scraping. His boots thunk on the wooden floor as he strides over to the counter and leans an elbow on it. “Sharp, Miss McKinnon, very sharp. Someone nervous?”

Marlene’s eyes drift to the doorway, her heart hammering in sweet anticipation, then snap back to Sirius. “Nervous for you maybe, your ego will get you knocked out one day.”

“Ooh, claws,” Sirius comments, straightening the small stand of cards next to the tablet they have for a till. “Remember what we discussed.”

“Oh my god, Sirius,” Marlene says, exasperated as she finally turns from the display to hit her business partner on the arm. “I am not taking flirting advice from you, or Remus! How the two of you function together at all is beyond me.”

A van clatters past on the cobblestones outside, Marlene’s heart leaping again as she looks for that particular van. Not hers, though. Sirius draws her attention back with a low chuckle. “Remember; if you were a flower, you’d be a _damndelion.”_

“I am not saying that to her. She’ll laugh in my face.”

Sirius glances up from the card display, mirth dancing in his grey eyes. God, Marlene would punch him if she didn’t adore him so. “I just want some’ _bud_ ’y to love? I think of you everydaisy?”

Another noise outside, then the slam of a car door. Marlene looks away from Sirius—who is awfully amused with his own puns—to see the _Meadowes Farm_ van outside, a splash of daffodils painted on the side. Dorcas skirts around to the back door and sets a tray of flowers on her hip, the rainbow of colours reflecting up her white shirt. She looks _beautiful_ too, as she did every time Marlene saw her, every few days with her flowers straight from the farm. She always has mud beneath her fingernails, endearingly sweet, and today her natural hair is pushed back beneath an olive green scarf.

“Shut up,” Marlene hisses, elbowing Sirius in the ribs.

“What about I’m wildflower about you? Talk dirt to me? I’m so thorny?”

“Sirius!”

With her free hand, Dorcas knocks on the glass of the door, smiling. It feels like she’s just looking at Marlene, not paying Sirius any mind, or the slowly building foot traffic behind her. It makes Sirius jolt from his monologue, thank God, and he reacts quicker than Marlene to hustle over to the door and pull it open.

“Good morning Miss Meadowes,” Sirius says, charming as ever, as Dorcas steps into the cafe.

She chuckles, sounding like the tinkling of a bell that makes Marlene shiver, and tips her head in Sirius’ direction. “Morning Sirius,” she says, then her gaze swivels to Marlene, and she wonders if she imagines the way her smile brightens. “Hi Marlene.”

“Hi,” Marlene replies, then suddenly all she can think of are Sirius’ stupid fucking puns. _What’s up, buttercup?_ _A peony for your thoughts?_ Fuck, she was going to murder him!

Over Dorcas’ shoulder, Sirius shoots Marlene a wink, as if to say _go for it_. Then, turning tail like the bastard he is, disappears into the kitchen to bother Remus.

“Those lilies are gorgeous,” Dorcas comments, as she comes closer and sets her tray of flowers on the counter. Marlene follows her gaze to the lilac-ribboned bouquet on the shelf.

“Thank you… All your doing.” Marlene bites her lip as soon as she’s said it. It feels corny and stupid to say, that Marlene is just sculpting the beautiful things Dorcas hands her. Shit, she should’ve gone with _you’d be a damndelion._

Dorcas, though, gifts her with a wonderful laugh and a broad smile. “I’m sure glad to work together, then.” She almost looks _shy_ , her gaze dropping as she adjusts a bunch of daffodils within the tray on the counter.

“Me too.” Marlene answers too quickly, too eager to agree to play it cool. She smiles, goes to pick up a bunch of tulips from the tray. “I look forward to everydaisy you come in.”

Marlene only realises she’s tripped up on one of Sirius’ pervasive fucking puns, a weed sprouting up just like the damnable man himself, when Dorcas gives a laugh of surprise, eyebrows jumping up. “Everydaisy?”

Marlene flushes bright red. She’s surprised she can’t see her reflection in the window like a beacon. “ _Shit_. Sirius has been bombarding me with flower puns for _months_.”

“Well,” Dorcas starts around another laugh. “I look forward to everydaisy I see you too.” Her voice is soft, but it doesn’t sound teasing, or brash or about to turn her down. Dorcas flushes the most beautiful colour, still fussing at the bunch of daffodils in her hand.

In for a peony, in for a pound, Marlene thinks, then grins. “His other option was _I’m wildflower about you_.”

Dorcas seems surprised at the laugh that bubbles out of her mouth, clamping her hand over her coral-tinted lips a moment later. “Oh goodness, that’s _awful_ ,” she says as soon as she draws a breath. Then, on a sigh, she looks up to Marlene again, suddenly a little more composed. “For what it’s worth, I’m wildflower about you too.”

Marlene can’t keep the grin from her face. “The bar across the road does amazing botanical gin… would you like to come for a drink tomorrow with me?”

“I would like that, very much.” Dorcas glances at her watch—a battered thing with a worn leather strap—then back to Marlene. “I’ll meet you here? At… what, seven?”

“Seven is good.” Marlene bites her lip. In the kitchen she can hear Sirius and Remus, chattering and singing some old song from the 70s. Outside she can hear the rattle of tables and chairs being pulled onto the cobbles, shop doors opening. The world hasn’t ended, and Dorcas Meadowes has said yes to a date.

“See you then, Marlene.” Dorcas’ smile widens to a grin, as she picks up the empty tray from her last visit that Marlene had set by the counter and sets it on her hip.

“See you then,” she replies, feeling a little dumb with shock and happiness, watching as Dorcas strides back across the shop floor and out into the street.

The second the bell above the door tinkles, the dull thud of it shutting behind Dorcas, both Sirius and Remus spring from the kitchen, cheering wildly.

“You did it!” Remus cries, throwing his hands up and spraying flour everywhere.

“My girl’s got a date!” Sirius hollers, squeezing Marlene into a hug that Remus quickly joins in.

“I did!” Marlene lets herself give a little squeal of happiness as Sirius lifts her up off her feet for a moment.

“Told you the puns would work,” Sirius says, pulling back to give Marlene a sly grin. She rolls her eyes, scoffs, hits him on the arm.

“Don’t be ranunculus.” The awful pun is worth it alone for the look of shock and awe on Sirius’ face, only doubled by the squawk of laughter Remus gives in response. It’s true though, _ranunculus_ as it is, Marlene McKinnon has a date.


End file.
